* ,  V* 


[See  page  4 
WHEN    ALFRED    PRICE    FELL    IN    LOVE    WITH    MISS    LETTY    MORRIS 


og. 


An 


BY 
MARGARET    D ELAND 

AUTHOR  OF     f/ 

"  THE  AWAKENING  OF  HELENA  RICHIE  " 

"  DR.    LAVENDER'S   PEOPLE  " 

"OLD  CHESTER  TALES" 

ETC.      ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED   BY 

ALICE  BARBER  STEPHENS 


•'  ' 


\    I 


NEW   YORK    AND    LONDON 

HARPER   &   BROTHERS    PUBLISHERS 

MCMVII 


Copyright,  1904,  1907,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 


All  rights  reserved. 

Published  October,  1907. 


WHEN  ALFRED  PRICE  FELL  IN  LOVE 

WITH  MISS  LETTY  MORRIS  "  .  .  Frontispiece 
THE  CAPTAIN  AND  CYRUS  WERE 

AFRAID  OF  GUSSIE  "  ....  Facing  p.  18 
THERE  WAS  A  LITTLE  SILENCE,  AND 

THEN    DR.  LAVENDER   BEGAN  "    .  76 


$ 


W29792 


An   futrnr* 


-1 


1 


An 


A  CCORDING  to  Old  Chester,  to  be 
/i. romantic  was  just  one  shade  less 
reprehensible  than  to  put  on  airs. 
Captain  Alfred  Price,  in  all  his  seventy 
years,  had  never  been  guilty  of  put 
ting  on  airs,  but  certainly  he  had  some 
thing  to  answer  for  in  the  way  of  ro 
mance. 

However,  in  the  days  when  we 
children  used  to  see  him  pounding  up 
the  street  from  the  post-office,  reading, 
as  he  walked,  a  newspaper  held  at 
arm's-length  in  front  of  him,  he  was 
far  enough  from  romance.  He  was 
seventy  years  old,  he  weighed  over 


vis 


two  hundred  pounds,  his  big  head  was 
covered  with  a  shock  of  grizzled  red 
hair;  his  pleasures  consisted  in  polish 
ing  his  old  sextant  and  playing  on  a 
small  mouth  -  harmonicon.  As  to  his 
vices,  it  was  no  secret  that  he  kept  a 
fat  black  bottle  in  the  chimney-closet 
in  his  own  room,  and  occasionally  he 
swore  strange  oaths  about  his  grand 
mother's  nightcap.  "  He  used  to  blas 
pheme,"  his  daughter-in-law  said ; "  but 
I  said,  'Not  in  my  presence,  if  you 
please !'  So  now  he  just  says  this 
foolish  thing  about  a  nightcap."  Mrs. 
Drayton  said  that  this  reform  would 
be  one  of  the  jewels  in  Mrs.  Cyrus 
Price's  crown;  and  added  that  she 
prayed  that  some  day  the  Captain 
would  give  up  tobacco  and  rum.  "  I 
am  a  poor,  feeble  creature,"  said  Mrs. 
Drayton;  "I  cannot  do  much  for  my 
fellow -men  in  active  mission  -  work, 


jr 


—  but  I  give  my  prayers."  However, 
neither  Mrs.  Dray  ton's  prayers  nor 
Mrs.  Cyrus's  active  mission-work  had 
done  more  than  mitigate  the  blas 
phemy;  the  "rum"  (which  was  good 
Monongahela  whiskey)  was  still  on 
hand;  and  as  for  tobacco,  except 
when  sleeping,  eating,  playing  on  his 
harmonicon,  or  dozing  through  one  of 
Dr.  Lavendar's  sermons,  the  Captain 
smoked  every  moment,  the  ashes  of  his 
pipe  or  cigar  falling  unheeded  on  a  vast 
and  wrinkled  expanse  of  waistcoat. 

No;  he  was  not  a  romantic  object. 
But  we  girls,  watching  him  stump  past 
the  school-room  window  to  the  post- 
office,  used  to  whisper  to  one  another, 
"Just  think!  he  eloped  ." 

There  was  romance  for  you! 

To  be  sure,  the  elopement  had  not 
quite  come  off,  but  except  for  the 
very  end,  it  was  all  as  perfect  as  a 
3 


An  lEttmr? 


story.  Indeed,  the  failure  at  the  end 
made  it  all  the  better:  angry  parents 
broken  hearts — only,  the  worst  of  it 
was,  the  hearts  did  not  stay  broken! 
He  went  and  married  somebody  else; 
and  so  did  she.  You  would  have 
supposed  she  would  have  died.  I  am 
sure,  in  her  place,  any  one  of  us  would 
have  died.  And  yet,  as  Lydia  Wright 
said,  "  How  could  a  young  lady  die  for 
a  young  gentleman  with  ashes  all  over 
his  waistcoat?" 

But  when  Alfred  Price  fell  in  love 
with  Miss  Letty  Morris,  he  was  not 
indifferent  to  his  waistcoat,  nor  did 
he  weigh  two  hundred  pounds.  He 
was  slender  and  ruddy-cheeked,  with 
tossing  red-brown  curls.  If  he  swore, 
it  was  not  by  his  grandmother  nor 
her  nightcap;  if  he  drank,  it  was  hard 
cider  (which  can  often  accomplish  as 
much  as  "rum");  if  he  smoked  it 
4 


An 


was  in  secret,  behind  the  stable.  He 
wore  a  stock,  and  (on  Sunday)  a 
ruffled  shirt;  a  high-waisted  coat  with 
two  brass  buttons  behind,  and  very 
tight  pantaloons.  At  that  time  he  at 
tended  the  Seminary  for  Youths  in 
Upper  Chester.  Upper  Chester  was 
then,  as  in  our  time,  the  seat  of  learn 
ing  in  the  township,  the  Female  Acad 
emy  being  there,  too.  Both  were 
boarding-schools,  but  the  young  peo 
ple  came  home  to  spend  Sunday;  and 
their  weekly  returns,  all  together  in 
the  stage,  were  responsible  for  more 
than  one  Old  Chester  match.  .  .  ,<£ 

"The  air,"  says  Miss,  sniffing  gen 
teelly  as  the  coach  jolts  past  the  blos 
soming  May  orchards,  "is  most  agree 
ably  perfumed.  And  how  fair  is  the 
prospect  from  this  hill-top!" 

"Fair  indeed!"  responds  her  com 
panion,  staring  boldly. 
5 


An  Ettrnr* 


Miss  bridles  and  bites  her  lip. 

"  /  was  not  observing  the  landscape," 
the  young  gentleman  hastens  to  ex 
plain. 

In  those  days  (Miss  Letty  was  born 
in  1804,  and  was  eighteen  when  she 
and  the  ruddy  Alfred  sat  on  the  back 
seat  of  the  coach) — in  those  days  the 
conversation  of  Old  Chester  youth  was 
more  elegant  than  in  our  time.  We, 
who  went  to  Miss  Bailey's  school, 
were  sad  degenerates  in  the  way  of 
manners  and  language ;  at  least  so  our 
elders  told  us.  When  Lydia  Wright 
said,  "Oh  my,  what  an  awful  snow 
storm!"  dear  Miss  Ellen  was  displeased. 
"Lydia,"  said  she,  "is  there  anything 
1  awe '-inspiring  in  this  display  of  the 
elements?" 

"No,  'm,"  faltered  poor  Lydia. 

"Then,"  said  Miss  Bailey,  gravely, 
"your  statement  that  the  storm  is 
6 


'awful'  is  a  falsehood.  I  do  not  sup 
pose,  my  dear,  that  you  intentionally 
told  an  untruth;  it  was  an  exaggera 
tion.  But  an  exaggeration,  though  not 
perhaps  a  falsehood,  is  unladylike,  and 
should  be  avoided  by  persons  of  refine 
ment."  Just  here  the  question  arises: 
what  would  Miss  Ellen  (now  in  heaven) 
say  if  she  could  hear  Lydia's  Lydia, 
just  home  from  college,  remark—  But 
no:  Miss  Ellen's  precepts  shall  protect 
these  pages. 

But  in  the  days  when  Letty  Morris 
looked  out  of  the  coach  window,  and 
young  Alfred  murmured  that  the  pros 
pect  was  fair  indeed,  conversation  was 
perfectly  correct.  And  it  was  still  de 
corous  even  when  it  got  beyond  the 
coach  period  and  reached  a  point  where 
Old  Chester  began  to  take  notice.  At 
first  it  was  young  Old  Chester  which 
giggled.  Later  old  Old  Chester  made 


> 


w- 
** 


ft 

An 


some  comments;  it  was  then  that  Al 
fred's  mother  mentioned  the  matter  to 
Alfred's  father.  "He  is  young,  and, 
of  course,  foolish,"  Mrs.  Price  explain 
ed.  And  Mr.  Price  said  that  though 
folly  was  incidental  to  Alfred's  years, 
it  must  be  checked. 

"Just  check  it,"  said  Mr.  Price. 

Then  Miss  Letty's  mother  awoke  to 
the  situation,  and  said,  "Fy,  fy,  Le- 
titia!  let  me  hear  no  more  of  this 
foolishness." 

So  it  was  that  these  two  young  per 
sons  were  plunged  in  grief.  Oh,  glo 
rious  grief  of  thwarted  love!  When 
they  met  now,  they  did  not  talk  of 
the  landscape.  Their  conversation, 
though  no  doubt  as  genteel  as  before, 
was  all  of  broken  hearts.  But  again 
Letty's  mother  found  out,  and  went  in 
wrath  to  call  on  Alfred's  family.  It 
was  decided  between  them  that  the 
8 


An  lEttrnr* 

«     •  ,         *      ?/ 

young  man  should  be  sent  away  from 
home.  "  To  save  him, ' '  says  the  father. 
"To  protect  my  daughter,"  says  Mrs. 
Morris. 

But  Alfred  and  Letty  had  something 
to  say.  ...  It  was  in  December ;  there 
was  a  snow-storm  —  a  storm  which 
Lydia  Wright  would  certainly  have 
called  "awful";  but  it  did  not  inter 
fere  with  true  love ;  these  two  children 
met  in  the  graveyard  to  swear  undy 
ing  constancy.  Alfred's  lantern  came 
twinkling  through  the  flakes,  as  he 
threaded  his  way  across  the  hill-side 
among  the  tombstones,  and  found 
Letty  just  inside  the  entrance,  stand 
ing  with  her  black  serving  -  woman 
under  a  tulip-tree.  The  negress,  chat 
tering  with  cold  and  fright,  kept  pluck 
ing  at  the  girl's  pelisse  to  hurry  her; 
but  once  Alfred  was  at  her  side,  Letty 
was  indifferent  to  storm  and  ghosts. 
9 


As  for  Alfred,  he  was  too  cast  down  to 


think  of  them. 

"Letty,  they  will  part  us." 
"No,  my  dear  Alfred,  no!" 
"Yes.     Yes,  they  will.    Oh,  if  you 
were  only  mine!" 
Miss  Letty  sighed. 
"  Will  you  be  true  to  me,  Letty  ?    I 
am  to  go  on  a  sailing-vessel  to  China, 
to  be  gone  two  years.    Will  you  wait 
forme?'1 

Letty  gave  a  little  cry;  two  years! 

Her  black  woman  twitched  her  sleeve. 

"Miss  Let,  it's  gittin'  cole,  honey." 

"  (Don't,  Flora.)— Alfred,  two  years! 

Oh,  Alfred,  that  is  an  eternity.     Why, 

I  should  be — I  should  be  twenty!" 

The  lantern,  set  on  a  tombstone  be 
side  them,  blinked  in  a  snowy  gust. 
Alfred  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands  —  he  was  shaken  to  his  soul; 
the  little,  gay  creature  beside  him 
10 


An  Ettrar* 

thrilled  at  a  sound  from  behind  those 
hands. 

" Alfred, "—she  said,  faintly;  then 
she  hid  her  face  against  his  arm ;  "  my 
dear  Alfred,  I  will,  if  you  desire  it — fly 
with  you!" 

Alfred,  with  a  gasp,  lifted  his  head 
and  stared  at  her.  His  slower  mind 
had  seen  nothing  but  separation  and 
despair;  but  the  moment  the  word 
was  said  he  was  aflame.  What!  Would 
she?  Could  she?  Adorable  creature! 

//    ^\  u--'<---> 

"Miss  Let,  my  feet  done  git  cole — " 

"  (Flora,  be  still!)— Yes,  Alfred,  yes. 
I  am  thine." 

The  boy  caught  her  in  his  arms. 
"  But  I  am  to  be  sent  away  on  Mon 
day!  My  angel,  could  you — fly,  to 
morrow?" 

And  Letty,  her  face  still  hidden 
against  his  shoulder,  nodded. 

Then,  while  the  shivering  Flora 
ii 


M--W< 


An  £ttr0r* 

stamped,  and  beat  her  arms,  and  the 
lantern  flared  and  sizzled,  Alfred  made 
their  plans,  which  were  simple  to  the 
point  of  childishness.  "My  own!"  he 
said,  when  it  was  all  arranged;  then 
he  held  the  lantern  up  and  looked  into 
her  face,  blushing  and  determined, 
with  snowflakes  gleaming  on  the  curls 
that  pushed  out  from  under  her  big 
hood.  "You  will  meet  me  at  the 
minister's?"  he  said,  passionately. 
"You  will  not  fail  me?" 

"I  will  not  fail  you!"  she  said;  and 
laughed  joyously ;  but  the  young  man's 
face  was  white. 

She  kept  her  word;  and  with  the 
assistance  of  Flora,  romantic  again 
when  her  feet  were  warm,  all  went  as 
they  planned.  Clothes  were  packed, 
savings-banks  opened,  and  a  chaise 
abstracted  from  the  Price  stable. 

"  It  is  my  intention,"  said  the  youth, 

12 


An 

"to  return  to  my  father  the  value  of 
the  vehicle  and  nag,  as  soon  as  I  can 
secure  a  position  which  will  enable  me 
to  support  my  Letty  in  comfort  and 
fashion." 

On  the  night  of  the  elopement  the  two 
children  met  at  the  minister's  house. 
(Yes,  the  very  old  Rectory  to  which  we 
Old  Chester  children  went  every  Sat 
urday  afternoon  to  Dr.  Lavendar's 
Collect  class.  But  of  course  there  was 
no  Dr.  Lavendar  there  in  those  days). 

Well ;  Alfred  requested  this  minister 
to  pronounce  them  man  and  wife ;  but 
he  coughed  and  poked  the  fire.  "I 
am  of  age,"  Alfred  insisted;  "I  am 
twenty-two."  Then  Mr.  Smith  said 
he  must  first  go  and  put  on  his  bands 
and  surplice;  and  Alfred  said,  "If  you 
please,  sir."  And  off  went  Mr.  Smith 
— and  sent  a  note  to  Alfred's  father  and 
Letty1  s  mother! 

13 


N 

An 


V^Tx.       ^^f 
We  girls  used  to  wonder  what  the 

lovers  talked  about  while  they  waited 
for  the  return  of  the  surpliced  traitor. 

•*•  Qr* 

Ellen  Dale  always  said  they  were 
foolish  to  wait.  "Why  didn't  they 
go  right  off?"  said  Ellen.  "If  /  were 
going  to  elope,  I  shouldn't  bother  to 
get  married.  But,  oh,  think  of  how 
they  felt  when  in  walked  those  cruel 
parents!" 

The  story  was  that  they  were  torn 
weeping  from  each  other's  arms;  that 
Letty  was  sent  to  bed  for  two  days  on 
bread  and  water;  that  Alfred  was 
packed  off  to  Philadelphia  the  very 
next  morning,  and  sailed  in  less  than 
a  week.  They  did  not  see  each  other 
again. 

But  the  end  of  the  story  was  not 
romantic  at  all.  Letty,  although  she 
crept  about  for  a  while  in  deep  dis 
grace,  and  brooded  upon  death — that 
14 


interesting  impossibility,  so  dear  to 
youth — married,  if  you  please!  when 
she  was  twenty,  somebody  called 
North, — and  went  away  to  live.  When 
Alfred  came  back,  seven  years  later, 
he  got  married,  too.  He  married  a 
Miss  Barkley.  He  used  to  go  away  on 
long  voyages,  so  perhaps  he  wasn't 

really  fond  of  her.     We  tried  to  think 

^ 

so,  for  we  liked  Captain  Price. 

In  our  day  Captain  Price  was  a  wid 
ower.  He  had  given  up  the  sea,  and 
settled  down  to  live  in  Old  Chester; 
his  son,  Cyrus,  lived  with  him,  and  his 
languid  daughter-in-law — a  young  lady 
of  dominant  feebleness,  who  ruled  the 
two  men  with  that  most  powerful 
domestic  rod,  foolish  weakness.  This 
combination  in  a  woman  will  cause  a 
mountain  (a  masculine  mountain)  to 
fly  from  its  firm  base ;  while  kindness, 
justice,  and  good  sense  leave  it  upon  un- 


shaken  foundations  of  selfishness.  Mrs. 
Cyrus  was  a  Goliath  of  silliness ;  when 
billowing  black  clouds  heaped  them 
selves  in  the  west  on  a  hot  afternoon, 
she  turned  pale  with  apprehension, 
and  the  Captain  and  Cyrus  ran  for  four 
tumblers,  into  which  they  put  the  legs 
of  her  bed,  where,  cowering  among  the 
feathers,  she  lay  cold  with  fear  and 
perspiration.  Every  night  the  Cap 
tain  screwed  down  all  the  windows  on 
the  lower  floor;  in  the  morning  Cyrus 
pulled  the  screws  out.  Cyrus  had  a 
pretty  taste  in  horseflesh,  but  Gussie 
cried  so  when  he  once  bought  a  trotter 
that  he  had  long  ago  resigned  himself 
to  a  friendly  beast  of  twenty-seven 
years,  who  could  not  go  much  out  of  a 
walk  because  he  had  string-halt  in  both 
hind  legs. 

But  one  must  not  be  too  hard  on 
Mrs.  Cyrus.     In  the  first  place,  she  was 
16 


-.  j 

?U^Ii  P*^»  - 

not  born  in  Old  Chester.  But,  added 
to  that,  just  think  of  her  name !  The 
effect  of  names  upon  character  is  not 

JMCli^y^LOk      * 

considered  as  it  should  be.  If  one  is 
called  Gussie  for  thirty  years,  it  is 
almost  impossible  not  to  become  gussie 
after  a  while.  Mrs.  Cyrus  could  not  be 

j0» 

Augusta ;  few  women  can ;  but  it  was 
easy  to  be  gussie — irresponsible,  silly, 
selfish.  She  had  a  vague,  flat  laugh, 
she  ate  a  great  deal  of  candy,  and  she 
was  afraid  of —  But  one  cannot  cata 
logue  Mrs.  Cyrus's  fears.  They  were 
as  the  sands  of  the  sea  for  number. 
And  these  two  men  were  governed  by 
them.  Only  when  the  secrets  of  all 
hearts  shall  be  revealed  will  it  be  un 
derstood  why  a  man  loves  a  fool ;  but 
why  he  obeys  her  is  obvious  enough: 
Fear  is  the  greatest  power  in  the  world ; 
Gussie  was  afraid  of  thunder-storms,  or 
what  not;  but  the  Captain  and  Cyrus 


An 


were  afraid  of  Gussie  !  A  hint  of  tears 
in  her  pale  eyes,  and  her  husband 
would  sigh  with  anxiety  and  Captain 
Price  slip  his  pipe  into  his  pocket 
and  sneak  out  of  the  room.  Doubtless 
Cyrus  would  often  have  been  glad  to 
follow  him,  but  the  old  gentleman 
glared  when  his  son  showed  a  desire 
for  his  company. 

"  Want  to  come  and  smoke  with  me  ? 
'  Your  granny  was  Murray  !'  —  you're  so- 
jering.  You're  first  mate  ;  you  belong 
on  the  bridge  in  storms.  I'm  before 
the  mast.  Tend  to  your  business!" 

It  was  forty-eight  years  before  Letty 
and  Alfred  saw  each  other  again  —  or 
at  least  before  persons  calling  them 
selves  by  those  old  names  saw  each 
other.  Were  they  Letty  and  Alfred  — 
this  tousled,  tangled,  good-humored 
old  man,  ruddy  and  cowed,  and  this 


THE    CAPTAIN    AND    CYRUS    WERE    AFRAID    OF    GUSSIE 


An  ?Ettr0r* 

small,  bright-eyed  old  lady,  Mrs.  North, 
led  about  by  a  devoted  daughter? 
Certainly  these  two  persons  bore  no 
resemblance  to  the  boy  and  girl  torn 
from  each  other's  arms  that  cold  De 
cember  night.  Alfred  had  been  mild 
and  slow;  Captain  Price  (except  when 
his  daughter-in-law  raised  her  finger) 
was  a  pleasant  old  roaring  lion.  Letty 
had  been  a  gay,  high-spirited  little 
creature,  not  as  retiring,  perhaps,  as 
a  young  female  should  be,  and  cer 
tainly  self-willed;  Mrs.  North  was 
completely  under  the  thumb  of  her 
daughter  Mary.  Not  that  "  under  the 
thumb"  means  unhappiness;  Mary 
North  desired  only  her  mother's  wel 
fare,  and  lived  fiercely  for  that  single 
purpose.  From  morning  until  night 
(and,  indeed,  until  morning  again,  for 
she  rose  often  from  her  bed  to  see  that 
there  was  no  draught  from  the  crack 
19 


of  the  open  window),  all  through  the 
twenty-four  hours  she  was  on  duty. 

When  this  excellent  daughter  ap 
peared  in  Old  Chester  and  said  she 
was  going  to  hire  a  house,  and  bring 
her  mother  back  to  end  her  days  in 
the  home  of  her  girlhood,  Old  Chester 
displayed  a  friendly  interest ;  when  she 
decided  upon  a  house  on  Main  Street, 
directly  opposite  Captain  Price's,  it 
began  to  recall  the  romance  of  that 
thwarted  elopement. 

"Do  you  suppose  she  knows  that 
story  about  old  Alfred  Price  and  her 
mother?"  said  Old  Chester;  and  it 
looked  sidewise  at  Miss  North  with 
polite  curiosity.  This  was  not  alto 
gether  because  of  her  mother's  ro 
mantic  past,  but  because  of  her  own 
manners  and  clothes.  With  painful 
exactness,  Miss  North  endeavored  to 
follow  the  fashion;  but  she  looked  as 

20 


An 


if  articles  of  clothing  had  been  thrown 
at  her  and  some  had  stuck.  As  to  her 
manners,  Old  Chester  was  divided; 
Mrs.  David  Baily  said,  with  delicate 
disgust,  that  they  were  bad;  but  Mrs. 
Barkley  said,  that  the  trouble  was  she 
hadn't  any  manners;  and  as  for  Dr. 
Lavendar,  he  insisted  that  she  was  just 
shy.  But,  as  Mrs.  Drayton  said,  that 
was  like  Dr.  Lavendar,  always  making 
excuses  for  wrong-doing!  "Which," 
said  Mrs.  Drayton,  "is  a  strange  thing 
for  a  minister  to  do.  For  my  part,  I 
cannot  understand  impoliteness  in  a 
Christian  female.  But  we  must  not 
judge,"  Mrs.  Drayton  ended,  with  what 
Willy  King  called  her  "holy  look." 
Without  wishing  to  "judge,"  it  may 
be  said  that,  in  the  matter  of  manners, 
Miss  Mary  North,  palpitatingly  anx 
ious  to  be  polite,  told  the  truth;  and 
as  everybody  knows,  truthfulness  and 

21 


An 


agreeable  manners  are  often  divorced 
on  the  ground  of  incompatibility.  Miss 
North  said  things  that  other  people 
only  thought.  When  Mrs.  Willy  King 
remarked  that,  though  she  did  not  pre 
tend  to  be  a  good  house-keeper,  she  had 
the  backs  of  her  pictures  dusted  every 
other  day,  Miss  North,  her  chin  trem 
bling  with  shyness,  said,  with  a  panting 
smile: 

"  That's  not  good  house-keeping  ;  it's 
foolish  waste  of  time."  And  when 
Neddy  Dilworth's  wife  confessed  co- 
quettishly,  that  one  would  hardly  take 
her  to  be  a  year  or  two  older  than  her 
husband,  would  one?  Mary  North 
exclaimed,  in  utter  astonishment:  "is 
that  all  ?  Why,  you  look  twelve  years 
older!"  Of  course  such  truthfulness 
was  far  from  genteel,  —  though  Old 
Chester  was  not  as  displeased  as  you 
might  have  supposed. 

22 


While  Miss  North,  timorous  and 
sincere  (and  determined  to  be  polite), 
was  putting  the  house  in  order  before 
sending  for  her  mother,  Old  Chester 
invited  her  to  tea,  and  asked  her  many 
questions  about  Letty  and  the  late  Mr. 
North.  But  nobody  asked  whether 
she  knew  that  her  opposite  neighbor, 
Captain  Price,  might  have  been  her 
father  —  at  least  that  was  the  way 
Miss  Ellen's  girls  expressed  it.  Cap 
tain  Price  himself  did  not  enlighten 
the  daughter  he  did  not  have  ;  but  he 
went  rolling  across  the  street,  and 
pulling  off  his  big  shabby  felt  hat, 
stood  at  the  foot  of  the  steps,  and 
roared  out:  "Morning!  Anything  I 
can  do  for  you  ?"  Miss  North,  indoors, 
hanging  window-curtains,  her  mouth 
full  of  tacks,  shook  her  head.  Then 
she  removed  the  tacks  and  came  to 
the  front  door. 

23 


An 


"Do  you  smoke,  sir?" 

Captain  Price  removed  his  pipe  from 
his  mouth  and  looked  at  it.  "Why! 
I  believe  I  do,  sometimes,"  he  said. 

"I  inquired,"  said  Miss  North,  smil 
ing  tremulously,  her  hands  gripped 
hard  together,  "because,  if  you  do,  I 
will  ask  you  to  desist  when  passing  our 
windows." 

Captain  Price  was  so  dumfounded 
that  for  a  moment  words  failed  him. 
Then  he  said,  meekly,  "Does  your 
mother  object  to  tobacco  smoke, 
ma'am?" 

"  It  is  injurious  to  all  ladies'  throats," 
Miss  North  explained,  her  voice  quiver 
ing  and  determined. 

"Does  your  mother  resemble  you, 
madam?"  said  Captain  Price,  slowly. 

" Oh  no!  my  mother  is  pretty.  She 
has  my  eyes,  but  that's  all." 

"I  didn't  mean  in  looks,"  said  the 
24 


old  man ;  "  she  did  not  look  in  the  least 
like  you ;  not  in  the  least !  I  mean  in 
her  views  ?" 

"Her  views?  I  don't  think  my 
mother  has  any  particular  views," 
Miss  North  answered,  hesitatingly; 
"I  spare  her  all  thought,'*  she  ended, 
and  her  thin  face  bloomed  suddenly 
with  love. 

Old  Chester  rocked  with  the  Cap 
tain  's  report  of  his  call;  and  Mrs. 
Cyrus  told  her  husband  that  she  only 
wished  this  lady  would  stop  his  father's 
smoking. 

"  Just  look  at  his  ashes,"  said  Gussie ; 
"I  put  saucers  round  everywhere  to 
catch  'em,  but  he  shakes  'em  off  any 
where — right  on  the  carpet!  And  if 
you  say  anything,  he  just  says,  'Oh, 
they'll  keep  the  moths  away ! '  I  wor 
ry  so  for  fear  he'll  set  the  house  on 
fire." 

25 


Mrs.  Cyrus  was  so  moved  by  Miss 
North's  active  mission- work  that  the 
very  next  day  she  wandered  across 
the  street  to  call.  "I  hope  I'm  not 
interrupting  you,"  she  began,  "but  I 
thought  I'd  just—" 

"Yes;  you  are,"  said  Miss  North; 
"but  never  mind;  stay,  if  you  want 
to."  She  tried  to  smile,  but  she 
looked  at  the  duster  which  she  had 
put  down  upon  Mrs.  Cyrus's  en 
trance. 

Gussie  wavered  as  to  whether  to 
take  offence,  but  decided  not  to  —  at 
least  not  until  she  could  make  the  re 
mark  which  was  buzzing  in  her  small 
mind.  It  seemed  strange,  she  said, 
that  Mrs.  North  should  come,  not  only 
to  Old  Chester,  but  right  across  the 
street  from  Captain  Price! 

"Why?"  said  Mary  North,  briefly. 

"Why?"  said  Mrs.  Cyrus,  with  faint 
26 


animation.  "Gracious!  is  it  possible 
that  you  don't  know  about  your 
mother  and  my  father-in-law?" 

"  Your  father-in-law  ? — my  mother  ?" 

"Why,  you  know,"  said  Mrs.  Cyrus, 
with  her  light  cackle,  "your  mother 
was  a  little  romantic  when  she  was 
young.  No  doubt  she  has  conquered 
it  by  this  time.  But  she  tried  to  elope 
with  my  father-in-law." 

"What!" 

"Oh,  bygones  should  be  bygones,*' 
Mrs.  Cyrus  said,  soothingly;  "forgive 
and  forget,  you  know.  I  have  no 
doubt  she  is  perfectly — well,  perfectly 
correct,  now.  If  there's  anything  I 
can  do  to  assist  you,  ma'am,  I'll  send 
my  husband  over";  and  then  she 
lounged  away,  leaving  poor  Mary 
North  silent  with  indignation.  But 
that  night  at  tea  Gussie  said  that  she 
thought  strong-minded  ladies  were 

\i. 


•5* 

An  lEtttnr* 

very  unladylike;  "they  say  she's 
strong-minded,"  she  added,  languidly. 

"  Lady !"  said  the  Captain.  "  She's  a 
man-o'-war's-man  in  petticoats." 

Gussie  giggled. 

"She's  as  flat  as  a  lath,"  the  Cap 
tain  declared;  "if  it  hadn't  been  for 
her  face,  I  wouldn't  have  known 
whether  she  was  coming  bow  or  stern 
on." 

"I  think,"  said  Mrs.  Cyrus,  "that 
that  woman  has  some  motive  in  bring 
ing  her  mother  back  here;  and  right 
across  the  street,  too!" 

"What  motive?"  said  Cyrus,  mildly 
curious. 

But  Augusta  waited  for  conjugal 
privacy  to  explain  herself:  "Cyrus,  I 
worry  so,  because  I'm  sure  that  woman 
thinks  she  can  catch  your  father  again. 
Oh,  just  listen  to  that  harmonicon 
down-stairs !  It  sets  my  teeth  on  edge !" 
28 


9   f  <t 

.«/•:•  "-^v 

A  A  **~y  (f   & 


-'?&& 


An 


Then  Cyrus,  the  silent,  servile  first 
mate,  broke  out:  "Gussie,  you're  a 
fool!" 

And  Augusta  cried  all  night,  and 
showed  herself  at  the  breakfast-table 
lantern-jawed  and  sunken-eyed;  and 
her  father-in-law  judged  it  wise  to 
sprinkle  his  cigar  ashes  behind  the 
stable. 

The  day  that  Mrs.  North  arrived  in 
Old  Chester,  Mrs.  Cyrus  commanded 
the  situation;  she  saw  the  daughter 
get  out  of  the  stage,  and  hurry  into 
the  house  for  a  chair  so  that  the 
mother  might  descend  more  easily. 
She  also  saw  a  little,  white-haired  old 
lady  take  that  opportunity  to  leap 
nimbly,  and  quite  unaided,  from  the 
swinging  step. 

"Now,  mother!"  expostulated  Mary 
North,  chair  in  hand,  and  breathless, 
29 


'c* 


"you  might  have  broken  your  limb! 
Here,  take  my  arm." 

Meekly,  after  her  moment  of  free 
dom,  the  little  lady  put  her  hand  on 
that  gaunt  arm,  and  tripped  up  the 
path  and  into  the  house,  where,  alas! 
Augusta  Price  lost  sight  of  them. 
Yet  even  she,  with  all  her  disapproval 
of  strong-minded  ladies,  must  have 
admired  the  tenderness  of  the  man-o'- 
war's-man.  Miss  North  put  her  moth 
er  into  a  big  chair,  and  hurried  to  bring 
a  dish  of  curds. 

"I'm  not  hungry,"  protested  Mrs. 
North. 

"  Never  mind.  It  will  do  you 
good." 

With  a  sigh  the  little  old  lady  ate 
the  curds,  looking  about  her  with  curi 
ous  eyes.  "Why,  we're  right  across 
the  street  from  the  old  Price  house!" 
she  said. 


An 


"Did  you  know  them,  mother?"  de 
manded  Miss  North. 

"Dear  me,  yes,"  said  Mrs.  North, 
twinkling;  "why,  I'd  forgotten  all 
about  it,  but  the  eldest  boy —  Now, 
what  was  his  name?  Al — something. 
Alfred — Albert;  no,  Alfred.  He  was 
a  beau  of  mine." 

" Mother!  I  don't  think  it's  refined 
to  use  such  a  word." 

"Well,  he  wanted  me  to  elope  with 
him,"  Mrs.  North  said,  gayly;  "if  that 
isn't  being  a  beau,  I  don't  know  what 
is.  I  haven't  thought  of  it  for  years." 

"If  you've  finished  your  curds  you 
must  lie  down,"  said  Miss  North. 

"Oh,  I'll  just  look  about—" 

"No;  you  are  tired.  You  must  lie 
down." 

"Who  is  that  stout  old  gentleman 
going  into  the  Price  house?"  Mrs. 
North  said,  lingering  at  the  window. 

31 
•  ••&r;.'  ^TilW;  •  .,- X  "•  .-, :'-':  '&&     •' 


0 


n  Ettrnr* 


"Oh,  that's  your  Alfred  Price,"  her 
daughter  answered;  and  added,  that 
she  hoped  her  mother  would  be  pleased 
with  the  house.  "  We  have  boarded  so 
long,  I  think  you'll  enjoy  a  home  of 
your  own." 

"Indeed  I  shall!"  cried  Mrs.  North, 
her  eyes  snapping  with  delight.  "  Mary, 
I'll  wash  the  breakfast  dishes,  as  my 
mother  used  to  do!" 

"Oh  no,"  Mary  North  protested; 
"it  would  tire  you.  I  mean  to  take 
every  care  from  your  mind." 

"But,"  Mrs.  North  pleaded,  "you 
have  so  much  to  do;  and — " 

"Never  mind  about  me,"  said  the 
daughter,  earnestly;  "you  are  my  first 
consideration." 

"I  know  it,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs. 
North,  meekly.  And  when  Old  Ches 
ter  came  to  make  its  call,  one  of  the 
first  things  she  said  was  that  her  Mary 
32 


' 


V          *     4 

«,/'•'•    - 

mm  .         «  JT 

•'  *  -••  •  ," 
-•.'  «., 


An 

/**'i  l  •  4 

was  such  a  good  daughter.  Miss  North, 
her  anxious  face  red  with  determina 
tion,  bore  out  the  assertion  by  con 
stantly  interrupting  the  conversation 
to  bring  a  footstool,  or  shut  a  window, 
or  put  a  shawl  over  her  mother's  knees. 
"My  mother's  limb  troubles  her,"  she 
explained  to  visitors  (in  point  of  mod 
esty,  Mary  North  did  not  leave  her 
mother  a  leg  to  stand  on) ;  then  she 
added,  breathlessly,  with  her  tremulous 
smile,  that  she  wished  they  would 
please  not  talk  too  much.  "Conver 
sation  tires  her,"  she  explained.  At 
which  the  little,  pretty  old  lady  opened 
and  closed  her  hands,  and  protested 
that  she  was  not  tired  at  all.  But  the 
callers  departed.  As  the  door  closed 
behind  them,  Mrs.  North  was  ready  to 
cry. 

"Now,  Mary,  really!"  she  began. 

"Mother,  I  don't  care!  I  don't  like 
33 


An  Stunt* 


to  say  a  thing  like  that,  though  I'm 
sure  I  always  try  to  speak  politely. 
But  it's  the  truth,  and  to  save  you  I 
would  tell  the  truth  no  matter  how 
painful  it  was  to  do  so." 

"  But  I  enjoy  seeing  people,  and — " 
44  It  is  bad  for  you  to  be  tired," 
Mary  said,  her  thin  face  quivering  still 
with  the  effort  she  had  made;  "and 
they  sha'n't  tire  you  while  I  am  here 
to  protect  you."  And  her  protection 
never  flagged.  When  Captain  Price 
called,  she  asked  him  to  please  con 
verse  in  a  low  tone,  as  noise  was  bad 
for  her  mother.  "He  had  been  here 
a  good  while  before  I  came  in,"  she 
defended  herself  to  Mrs.  North,  after 
wards;  4<and  I'm  sure  I  spoke  polite- 
ly." 

The  fact  was,  the  day  the  Captain 
came,  Miss  North  was  out.    Her  moth 
er   had   seen   him   pounding   up   the 
34 


street,  and  hurrying  to  the  door,  called 
out,  gayly,  in  her  little,  old,  piping 
voice,  "Alfred— Alfred  Price!" 

The  Captain  turned  and  looked  at 
her.  There  was  just  one  moment's 
pause;  perhaps  he  tried  to  bridge  the 
years,  and  to  believe  that  it  was  Letty 
who  spoke  to  him — Letty,  whom  he 
had  last  seen  that  wintry  night,  pale 
and  weeping,  in  the  slender  green 
sheath  of  a  fur-trimmed  pelisse.  If 
so,  he  gave  it  up;  this  plump,  white- 
haired,  bright-eyed  old  lady,  in  a  wide- 
spreading,  rustling  black  silk  dress, 
was  not  Letty.  She  was  Mrs.  North. 

The  Captain  came  across  the  street, 
waving  his  newspaper,  and  saying, 
"  So  you've  cast  anchor  in  the  old  port, 
ma'am?" 

"My  daughter  is  not  at  home;  do 
come  in,"  she  said,  smiling  and  nod 
ding.  Captain  Price  hesitated;  then 
35 


put  his  pipe  in  his  pocket  and 
followed  her  into  the  parlor.  "Sit 
down,"  she  cried,  gayly.  "Well,  Al 
fred!" 

"Well— Mrs.  North!"  he  said;  and 
then  they  both  laughed,  and  she  began 
to  ask  questions:  Who  was  dead? 
Who  had  so  and  so  married?  "There 
are  not  many  of  us  left,"  she  said. 
"The  two  Ferris  girls  and  Theophilus 
Morrison  and  Johnny  Gordon — he  came 
to  see  me  yesterday.  And  Matty  Dil- 
worth;  she  was  younger  than  I — oh, 
by  ten  years.  She  married  the  oldest 
Barldey  boy,  didn't  she?  I  hear  he 
didn't  turn  out  well.  You  married  his 
sister,  didn't  you?  Was  it  the  oldest 
girl  or  the  second  sister?" 

"It    was   the    second — Jane.     Yes, 
poor  Jane.     I  lost  her  in  'forty-five." 
S&You    have    children?"    she    said, 
sympathetically . 

36 


V  ZB 


An 


"  I  Ve  got  a  boy,"  he  said ;  "  but  he's 
married." 

"  My  girl  has  never  married ;  she's  a 
good  daughter," — Mrs.  North  broke  off 
with  a  nervous  laugh;  "here  she  is, 
now!" 

Mary  North,  who  had  suddenly  ap 
peared  in  the  doorway,  gave  a  ques 
tioning  sniff,  and  the  Captain's  hand 
sought  his  guilty  pocket;  but  Miss 
North  only  said :  "  How  do  you  do,  sir  ? 
Now,  mother,  don't  talk  too  much  and 
get  tired."  She  stopped  and  tried  to 
smile,  but  the  painful  color  came  into 
her  face.  "And — if  you  please,  Cap 
tain  Price,  will  you  speak  in  a  low  tone  ? 
Large,  noisy  persons  exhaust  the  oxy 
gen  in  the  air,  and — " 

"Mary!"   cried   poor   Mrs.    North; 

but  the  Captain,  clutching  his  old  felt 

hat,  began  to  hoist  himself  up  from 

the  sofa,  scattering  ashes  about  as  he 

37 


An 

did  so.  Mary  North  compressed  her 
lips. 

"I  tell  my  daughter-in-law  they'll 
keep  the  moths  away,"  the  old  gentle 
man  said,  sheepishly. 

"I  use  camphor,"  said  Miss  North, 
"Flora  must  bring  a  dust-pan." 

"Flora?"  Alfred  Price  said.  "Now, 
what's  my  association  with  that 
name?" 

"  She  was  our  old  cook,"  Mrs.  North 
explained ;  "  this  Flora  is  her  daughter. 
But  you  never  saw  old  Flora  ?" 

"Why,  yes,  I  did,"  the  old  man  said, 
slowly.  "Yes.  I  remember  Flora. 
Well,  good-bye,— Mrs.  North." 

"Good-bye,  Alfred.  Come  again," 
she  said,  cheerfully. 

"Mother,  here's  your  beef  tea,"  said 
a  brief  voice. 

Alfred  Price  fled.  He  met  his  son 
just  as  he  was  entering  his  own  house, 
38 


_ 


An 


and  burst  into  a  confidence:  "Cy,  my 
boy,  come  aft  and  splice  the  main- 
brace.  Cyrus,  what  a  female!  She 
knocked  me  higher  than  Gilroy's  kite. 
And  her  mother  was  as  sweet  a  girl  as 
you  ever  saw!"  He  drew  his  son  into 
a  little,  low-browed,  dingy  room  at  the 
end  of  the  hall.  Its  grimy  untidiness 
matched  the  old  Captain's  clothes,  but 
it  was  his  one  spot  of  refuge  in  his  own 
house;  here  he  could  scatter  his  to 
bacco  ashes  almost  unrebuked,  and 
play  on  his  harmonicon  without  seeing 
Gussie  wince  and  draw  in  her  breath; 
for  Mrs.  Cyrus  rarely  entered  the 
"  cabin."  "  I  worry  so  about  its  disor- 
derliness  that  I  won't  go  in,"  she  used 
to  say,  in  a  resigned  way.  And  the 
Captain  accepted  her  decision  with 
resignation  of  his  own.  "Crafts  of 
your  bottom  can't  navigate  in  these 
waters,"  he  agreed,  earnestly;  and, 
39 


r*>  0 


indeed,  the  room  was  so  cluttered  with 
his  belongings  that  voluminous  hoop- 
skirts  could  not  get  steerage  way.  "  He 
has  so  much  rubbish,"  Gussie  com 
plained;  but  it  was  precious  rubbish 
to  the  old  man.  His  chest  was  behind 
the  door ;  a  blow-fish,  stuffed  and  var 
nished,  hung  from  the  ceiling ;  two  col 
ored  prints  of  the  "Barque  Letty  M., 
800  tons,"  decorated  the  walls;  his 
sextant,  polished  daily  by  his  big, 
clumsy  hands,  hung  over  the  mantel 
piece,  on  which  were  many  dusty 
treasures — the  mahogany  spoke  of  an 
old  steering-wheel;  a  whale's  tooth; 
two  Chinese  wrestlers,  in  ivory ;  a  fan 
of  spreading  white  coral;  a  conch- 
shell,  its  beautiful  red  lip  serving  to 
hold  a  loose  bunch  of  cigars.  In  the 
chimney-breast  was  a  little  door,  and 
the  Captain,  pulling  his  son  into  the 
room  after  that  call  upon  Mrs.  North, 
40 


^'47%m^ 


/''•"  *>    **  warmer -,w 
An  Enrnr* 

fumbled  in  his  pocket  for  the  key. 
"Here,"  he  said;  "(as  the  Governor 
of  North  Carolina  said  to  the  Governor 
of  South  Carolina) — Cyrus,  she  handed 
round  beef  tea!" 

But  Cyrus  was  to  receive  still  further 
fe<  enlightenment  on  the  subject  of  his  op 
posite  neighbor : 

"She  called  him  in.  I  heard  her, 
with  my  own  ears !  '  Alfred,'  she  said, 
'  come  in.'  Cyrus,  she  has  designs ;  oh, 
I  worry  so  about  it!  He  ought  to  be 
protected.  He  is  very  old,  and,  of 
course,  foolish.  You  ought  to  check 
it  at  once." 

"  Gussie,  I  don't  like  you  to  talk  that 
way  about  my  father,"  Cyrus  began. 

"You'll  like  it  less  later  on.  He'll 
go  and  see  her  to-morrow." 

"Why  shouldn't  he  go  and  see  her 
to-morrow?"  Cyrus  said,  and  added  a 
modest  bad  word ;  which  made  Gussie 
41 


cry.  And  yet,  in  spite  of  what  his  wife 
called  his  "blasphemy,"  Cyrus  began 
to  be  vaguely  uncomfortable  whenever 
he  saw  his  father  put  his  pipe  in  his 
pocket  and  go  across  the  street.  And 
as  the  winter  brightened  into  spring, 
the  Captain  went  quite  often.  So,  for 
that  matter,  did  other  old  friends  of 
Mrs.  North's  generation,  who  by-and- 
by  began  to  smile  at  one  another,  and 
say,  "Well,  Alfred  and  Letty  are  great 
friends!"  For,  because  Captain  Price 
lived  right  across  the  street,  he  went 
most  of  all.  At  least,  that  was  what 
Miss  North  said  to  herself  with  obvious 
common-sense  —  until  Mrs.  Cyrus  put 
her  on  the  right  track.  .  .  . 

"  What !"  gasped  Mary  North.  "  But 
it's  impossible!" 

"  It  would  be  very  unbecoming,  con 
sidering  their  years,"  said  Gussie ;  "  but 
I  worry  so,  because,  you  know,  nothing 
42 


An   Enrnr* 


is  impossible  when  people  are  foolish; 
and  of  course,  at  their  age,  they  are  apt 
to  be  foolish." 

So  the  seed  was  dropped.  Certainly 
he  did  come  very  often.  Certainly  her 
mother  seemed  very  glad  to  see  him. 
Certainly  they  had  very  long  talks. 
Mary  North  shivered  with  apprehen 
sion.  But  it  was  not  until  a  week 
later  that  this  miserable  suspicion  grew 
strong  enough  to  find  words.  It  was 
after  tea,  and  the  two  ladies  were  sit 
ting  before  a  little  fire.  Mary  North 
had  wrapped  a  shawl  about  her  mother, 
and  given  her  a  footstool,  and  pushed 
her  chair  nearer  the  fire,  and  then  pull 
ed  it  away,  and  opened  and  shut  the 
parlor  door  three  times  to  regulate  the 
draught.  Then  she  sat  down  in  the 
corner  of  the  sofa,  exhausted  but  alert. 

4 'If    there's    anything    you    want, 
mother,  you'll  be  sure  and  tell  me  ?" 
43 


"Yes,  my  dear." 

"  I  think  I'd  better  put  another  shawl 
over  your  limbs  ?" 

"Oh  no,  indeed!" 

"  Mother,  are  you  sure  you  don't  feel 
a  draught?" 

"  No,  Mary ;  and  it  wouldn't  hurt  me 
if  I  did!" 

"  I  was  only  trying  to  make  you  com 
fortable—"  ' 

"I  know  that,  my  dear;  you  are  a 
very  good  daughter.  Mary,  I  think  it 
would  be  nice  if  I  made  a  cake.  So 
many  people  call,  and — " 

"I'll  make  it  to-morrow." 

"Oh,  I'll  make  it  myself,"  Mrs. 
North  protested,  eagerly;  "I'd  really 
enjoy — " 

"Mother!  Tire  yourself  out  in  the 
kitchen?  No,  indeed!  Flora  and  I 
will  see  to  it." 

Mrs.  North  sighed. 
44 


An 

Her  daughter  sighed  too ;  then  sud 
denly  burst  out:  "Old  Captain  Price 
comes  here  pretty  often." 

Mrs.  North  nodded  pleasantly. 
"That  daughter-in-law  doesn't  half 
take  care  of  him.  His  clothes  are 
dreadfully  shabby.  There  was  a  but 
ton  off  his  coat  to-day.  And  she's  a 
foolish  creature." 

"Foolish?  she's  an  unladylike  per 
son!"  cried  Miss  North,  with  so  much 
feeling  that  her  mother  looked  at  her 
in  mild  astonishment.  "And  coarse, 
too,"  said  Mary  North;  " I  think  mar 
ried  ladies  are  apt  to  be  coarse.  From 
association  with  men,  I  suppose." 

"What  has  she  done?"  demanded 
Mrs.  North,  much  interested. 

"She  hinted  that  he— that  you—" 

"Well?" 

"That  he  came  here  to  —  to  see 
you." 

45 


"Well,  who  else  would  he  come 
see?    Not  you!"  said  her  mother. 

"  She  hinted  that  he  might  want  to — 
to  marry  you." 

"Well  —  upon  my  word!  I  knew 
she  was  a  ridiculous  creature,  but 
really—!" 

Mary's  face  softened  with  relief. 
"Of  course  she  is  foolish;  but — " 

"Poor  Alfred!  What  has  he  ever 
done  to  have  such  a  daughter-in-law? 
Mary,  the  Lord  gives  us  our  children; 
but  Somebody  Else  gives  us  our  in- 
laws!" 

"Mother!"  said  Mary  North,  horri 
fied,  "you  do  say  such  things!  But 
really  he  oughtn't  to  come  so  often. 
People  will  begin  to  notice  it;  and 
then  they'll  talk.  I'll— I'll  take  you 
away  from  Old  Chester  rather  than 
have  him  bother  you." 

"Mary,  you  are  just  as  foolish  as 
46 


his  daughter-in-law,"  said  Mrs.  North, 
impatiently. 

And,  somehow,  poor  Mary  North's 
heart  sank. 

Nor  was  she  the  only  perturbed  per 
son  in  town  that  night.  Mrs.  Cyrus 
had  a  headache,  so  it  was  necessary 
for  Cyrus  to  hold  her  hand  and  assure 
her  that  Willy  King  said  a  headache 
did  not  mean  brain- fever. 

"Willy  King  doesn't  know  every 
thing.  If  he  had  headaches  like 
mine,  he  wouldn't  be  so  sure.  I  am 
always  worrying  about  things,  and  I 
believe  my  brain  can't  stand  it.  And 
now  I've  got  your  father  to  worry 
about!" 

"  Better  try  and  sleep,  Gussie.  I'll 
put  some  Kaliston  on  your  head." 

"  Kaliston !  Kaliston  won't  keep  me 
from  worrying.  Oh,  listen  to  that  har- 
monicon!" 

47 


Gussie,  I'm  sure  he  isn't  thinking 
of  Mrs.  North." 

"Mrs.  North  is  thinking  of  him, 
which  is  a  great  deal  more  dangerous. 
Cyrus,  you  must  ask  Dr.  Lavendar  to 
interfere." 

As  this  was  at  least  the  twentieth 
assault  upon  poor  Cyrus's  common- 
sense,  the  citadel  trembled. 

"  Do  you  wish  me  to  go  into  brain - 
fever  before  your  eyes,  just  from 
worry?"  Gussie  demanded.  "You 
must  go!" 

"Well,  maybe,  perhaps,  to-mor 
row—" 

"To-night — to-night,"  said  Augusta, 
faintly. 

And  Cyrus  surrendered. 

"Look  under  the  bed  before  you 
go,"  Gussie  murmured. 

Cyrus  looked.  "Nobody  there,"  he 
said,  reassuringly ;  and  went  on  tiptoe 
48 


'$ 

J 


An   1:nr0r* 

out  of  the  darkened,  cologne-scented 
room.  But  as  he  passed  along  the 
hall,  and  saw  his  father  in  his  little 
cabin  of  a  room,  smoking  placidly,  and 
polishing  his  sextant  with  loving  hands, 
Cyrus's  heart  reproached  him. 

"How's  her  head,  Cy?"  the  Captain 
called  out. 

"Oh,  better,  I  guess,"  Cyrus  said. 
("I'll  be  hanged  if  I  speak  to  Dr. 
Lavendar!") 

"That's  good,"  said  the  Captain, 
beginning  to  hoist  himself  up  out  of 
his  chair.  "Going  out?  Hold  hard, 
and  I'll  go  'long.  I  want  to  call  on 
Mrs.  North." 

Cyrus  stiffened.  "Cold  night,  sir," 
he  remonstrated. 

"'Your  granny  was  Murray,  and 
wore  a  black  nightcap!' "  said  the  Cap 
tain  ;  "  you  are  getting  delicate  in  your 
old  age,  Cy."  He  got  up,  and  plunged 
49 


Att  Ettrnr* 

into  his  coat,  and  tramped  out,  slam 
ming  the  door  heartily  behind  him — 
for  which,  later,  poor  Cyrus  got  the 
credit.  "  Where  you  bound  ?" 

"Oh  —  down  -  street, ' '  said  Cyrus, 
vaguely. 

"Sealed  orders?"  said  the  Captain, 
with  never  a  bit  of  curiosity  in  his  big, 
kind  voice;  and  Cyrus  felt  as  small  as 
he  was.  But  when  he  left  the  old 
man  at  Mrs.  North's  door,  he  was 
uneasy  again.  Maybe  Gussie  was 
right!  Women  are  keener  about  those 
things  than  men.  And  his  uneasiness 
actually  carried  him  to  Dr.  Lavendar's 
study,  where  he  tried  to  appear  at  ease 
by  patting  Danny. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  Cy 
rus?"  said  Dr.  Lavendar,  looking  at 
him  over  his  spectacles.  (Dr.  Laven 
dar,  in  his  wicked  old  heart,  always 
wanted  to  call  this  young  man  Cipher ; 
So 


An 

sV       QSv* 

but,  so  far,  grace  had  been  given  him 
to  withstand  temptation.)  "What's 
wrong?"  he  said. 

And  Cyrus,  somehow,  told  his 
troubles. 

At  first  Dr.  Lavendar  chuckled; 
then  he  frowned.  "Gussie  put  you 
up  to  this,  Cy — rws  f"  he  said. 

"Well,  my  wife's  a  woman,"  Cyrus 
began,  "and  they're  keener  on  such 
matters  than  men;  and  she  said,  per 
haps  you  would — would — " 

"What?"  Dr.  Lavendar  rapped  on 
the  table  with  the  bowl  of  his  pipe,  so 
loudly  that  Danny  opened  one  eye. 
"Would  what?" 

"Well,"  Cyrus  stammered,  "you 
know,  Dr.  Lavendar,  as  Gussie  says, 
1  there's  no  fo— '" 

"You  needn't  finish  it,"  Dr.  Laven 
dar  interrupted,  dryly;  "I've  heard  it 
before.  Gussie  didn't  say  anything 
51 


>    teri 
1    fil 


,~       <&0'.  Q 

<&,*&3$i0'$&  ^ 


Att 


about  a  young  fool,  did  she?"  Then 
he  eyed  Cyrus.  "Or  a  middle-aged 
one  ?  I've  seen  middle-aged  fools  that 
could  beat  us  old  fellows  hollow." 

"Oh,  but  Mrs.  North  is  far  beyond 
middle  age,"  said  Cyrus,  earnestly. 

Dr.  Lavendar  shook  his  head.  "  Well, 
well !"  he  said.  "  To  think  that  Alfred 
Price  should  have  such  a —  And  yet 
he  is  as  sensible  a  man  as  I  know!" 

"  Until  now,"  Cyrus  amended.  "  But 
Gussie  thought  you'd  better  caution 
him.  We  don't  want  him,  at  his  time 
of  life,  to  make  a  mistake." 

"It's  much  more  to  the  point  that 
I  should  caution  you  not  to  make  a 
mistake,"  said  Dr.  Lavendar;  and 
then  he  rapped  on  the  table  again, 
sharply.  "The  Captain  has  no  such 
idea — unless  Gussie  has  given  it  to 
him.  Cyrus,  my  advice  to  you  is  to 
go  home  and  tell  your  wife  not  to  be 
52 


An 


a  goose.  I'll  tell  her,  if  you  want 
me  to?" 

" Oh  no,  no!"  said  Cyrus,  very  much 
frightened.  "I'm  afraid  you'd  hurt 
her  feelings." 

"I'm  afraid  I  should,"  said  Dr.  Lav- 
endar,  grimly. 

"She's  so  sensitive,"  Cyrus  tried  to 
excuse  her;  "you  can't  think  how  sen 
sitive  she  is,  and  timid.  I  never  knew 
anybody  so  timid!  Why,  she  makes 
me  look  under  the  bed  every  night,  for 
fear  there's  somebody  there!" 

"Well,  next  time,  tell  her  'two  men 
and  a  dog' ;  that  will  take  her  mind  off 
your  father."  It  must  be  confessed 
that  Dr.  Lavendar  was  out  of  temper 
— a  sad  fault  in  one  of  his  age,  as  Mrs. 
Dray  ton  often  said ;  but  his  irritability 
was  so  marked  that  Cyrus  finally 
slunk  off,  uncomforted,  and  afraid  to 
meet  Gussie's  eye,  even  under  its 
53 


age  of  a  cologne  -  scented  ban 
kerchief. 

However,  he  had  to  meet  it,  and  he 
tried  to  make  the  best  of  his  own 
humiliation  by  saying  that  Dr.  Laven- 
dar  was  shocked  at  the  idea  of  the 
Captain  being  interested  in  Mrs.  North. 
"He  said  father  had  been,  until  now, 
as  sensible  a  man  as  he  knew,  and 
he  didn't  believe  he  would  think  of 
such  a  dreadful  thing.  And  neither 
do  I,  Gussie,  honestly,"  Cyrus  said. 

"But  Mrs.  North  isn't  sensible," 
Gussie  protested,  "and  she'll— 

"  Dr.  Lavendar  said '  there  was  no  fool 
like  a  middle-aged  fool,' "  Cyrus  agreed. 

"Middle-aged!  She's  as  old  as  Me 
thuselah!" 

"  That's  what  I  told  him,"  said  Cyrus. 

By  the  end  of  April  Old  Chester 
smiled.     How  could  it  help  it?    Gus- 
54 


sie  worried  so  that  she  took  frequent 
occasion  to  point  out  possibilities ;  and 
after  the  first  gasp  of  incredulity,  one 
could  hear  a  faint  echo  of  the  giggles 
of  forty -eight  years  before.  Mary 
North  heard  it,  and  her  heart  burned 
within  her. 

"It's  got  to  stop,"  she  said  to  her 
self,  passionately;  "I  must  speak  to 
his  son." 

But  her  throat  was  dry  at  the 
thought.  It  seemed  as  if  it  would 
kill  her  to  speak  to  a  man  on  such  a 
subject,  even  to  as  little  of  a  man  as 
Cyrus.  But,  poor,  shy  tigress !  to  save 
her  mother,  what  would  she  not  do? 
In  her  pain  and  fright  she  said  to 
Mrs.  North  that  if  that  old  man  kept 
on  making  her  uncomfortable  and 
conspicuous,  they  would  leave  Old 
Chester! 

Mrs.  North  twinkled  with  amuse- 
55 


An 


ment  when  Mary,  in  her  strained  and 
quivering  voice,  began,  but  her  jaw 
dropped  at  those  last  words;  Mary 
was  capable  of  carrying  her  off  at  a 
day's  notice  !  The  little  old  lady 
trembled  with  distressed  reassurances 
—  but  Captain  Price  continued  to 
call. 

And  that  was  how  it  came  about 
that  this  devoted  daughter,  after  days 
of  exasperation  and  nights  of  anxiety, 
reached  a  point  of  tense  determination. 
She  would  go  and  see  the  man's  son, 
and  say  .  .  .  That  afternoon,  as  she 
stood  before  the  swinging  glass  on  her 
high  bureau,  tying  her  bonnet-strings, 
she  tried  to  think  what  she  would  say. 
She  hoped  God  would  give  her  words 
—polite  words;  "for  I  must  be  po 
lite,"  she  reminded  herself  desperately. 
When  she  started  across  the  street 
her  paisley  shawl  had  slipped  from 
56 


>*  v* 


An  £ttrar* 

one  shoulder,  so  that  the  point  dragged 
on  the  flagstones;  she  had  split  her 
right  glove  up  the  back,  and  her  bon 
net  was  jolted  over  sidewise ;  but  the 
thick  Chantilly  veil  hid  the  quiver  of 
her  chin. 

Gussie  met  her  with  effusion,  and 
Mary,  striving  to  be  polite,  smiled 
painfully,  and  said: 

"  I  don't  want  to  see  you ;  I  want  to 
see  your  husband." 

Gussie  tossed  her  head;  but  she 
made  haste  to  call  Cyrus,  who  came 
shambling  along  the  hall  from  the 
cabin.  The  parlor  was  dark,  for 
though  it  was  a  day  of  sunshine  and 
merry  May  wind,  Gussie  kept  the 
shutters  bowed — but  Cyrus  could  see 
the  pale  intensity  of  his  visitor's  face. 
There  was  a  moment's  silence,  broken 
by  a  distant  harmonicon. 

"Mr.  Price,"  said  Mary  North,  with 
57 


An  Stunt* 

pale,  courageous  lips,  "you  must  stop 
your  father." 

Cyrus  opened  his  weak  mouth  to  ask 
an  explanation,  but  Gussie  rushed  in. 

"You  are  quite  right,  ma'am.  Cy 
rus  worries  so  about  it  (of  course  we 
know  what  you  refer  to).  And  Cyrus 
says  it  ought  to  be  checked  imme 
diately,  to  save  the  old  gentleman!" 

"You  must  stop  him,"  said  Mary 
North,  "for  my  mother's  sake." 

"Well—"  Cyrus  began. 

"  Have  you  cautioned  your  mother  ?" 
Gussie  demanded. 

"  Yes, "  Miss  North  said,  briefly.  To 
talk  to  this  woman  of  her  mother  made 
her  wince,  but  it  had  to  be  done. 
"Will  you  speak  to  your  father,  Mr. 
Price?" 

"Well,  I—" 

"  Of  course  he  will !"  Gussie  broke  in ; 
"Cyrus,  he  is  in  the  cabin  now." 
58 


An 

"Well,  to-morrow  I — "  Cyrus  got 
up  and  sidled  towards  the  door. 
"Anyhow,  I  don't  believe  he's  think 
ing  of  such  a  thing." 

"Miss  North,"  said  Gussie,  rising,  "/ 
will  do  it." 

"What,  now*"  faltered  Mary  North. 

"Now,"  said  Mrs.  Cyrus,  firmly. 

"Oh,"  said  Miss  North,  "I— I  think 
I  will  go  home.  Gentlemen,  when  they 
are  crossed,  speak  so — so  earnestly." 

Gussie  nodded.  The  joy  of  action 
and  of  combat  entered  suddenly  into 
her  little  soul;  she  never  looked  less 
vulgar  than  at  that  moment.  Cyrus 
had  disappeared. 

Mary  North,  white  and  trembling, 
hurried  out.  A  wheezing  strain  from 
the  harmonicon  followed  her  into  the 
May  sunshine,  then  ended,  abruptly — 
Mrs.  Price  had  begun!  On  her  own 
door-step  Miss  North  stopped  and  lis- 
59 


An  £nmr* 


tened,  holding  her  breath  for  an  out 
burst.  ...  It  came :  a  roar  of  laughter. 
Then  silence.  Mary  North  stood,  mo 
tionless,  in  her  own  parlor ;  her  shawl, 
hanging  from  one  elbow,  trailed  be 
hind  her;  her  other  glove  had  split; 
her  bonnet  was  blown  back  and  over 
one  ear ;  her  heart  was  pounding  in  her 
throat.  She  was  perfectly  aware  that 
she  had  done  an  unheard-of  thing. 
"But,"  she  said,  aloud,  "I'd  do  it 
again.  I'd  do  anything  to  protect 
her.  But  I  hope  I  was  polite  ?"  Then 
she  thought  how  courageous  Mrs.  Cy 
rus  was.  "She's  as  brave  as  a  lion!" 
said  Mary  North.  Yet,  had  Miss 
North  been  able  to  stand  at  the 
Captain's  door,  she  would  have  wit 
nessed  cowardice.  .  .  . 

"  Gussie,  I  wouldn't  cry.     Confound 
that  female,  coming  over  and  stirring 
you  up!    Now  don't,  Gussie!    Why,  I 
60 


,    9*1* 


S   A          **     *  9** 

t\"  /->;,; 


•  J"i^ 


•?• 


An   £ncorp 


never  thought  of —  Gussie,  I  wouldn't 
cry—" 

"I  have  worried  almost  to  death. 
Pro-promise!" 

"  Oh,  your  granny  was  Mur —  Gus 
sie,  my  dear,  now  don't." 

"Dr.  Lavendar  said  you'd  always 
been  so  sensible;  he  said  he  didn't  see 
how  you  could  think  of  such  a  dread 
ful  thing." 

"What!  Lavendar?  I'll  thank  Lav 
endar  to  mind  his  business!"  Cap 
tain  Price  forgot  Gussie;  he  spoke 
4 '  earnestly. "  "  Dog-gone  these  people 
that  pry  into —  Oh,  now,  Gussie, 
don't  r 

"I've  worried  so  awfully,"  said  Mrs. 
Cyrus.  "Everybody  is  talking  about 
you.  And  Dr.  Lavendar  is  so  —  so 
angry  about  it ;  and  now  the  daughter 
has  charged  on  me  as  though  it  is  my 
fault!  Of  course,  she  is  queer,  but — " 
61 


i 


^ 


An 


"Queer?  she's  queer  as  Dick's  hat 
band!  Why  do  you  listen  to  her? 
Gussie,  such  an  idea  never  entered  my 
head  —  or  Mrs.  North's  either." 

"Oh  yes,  it  has!  Her  daughter 
said  that  she  had  had  to  speak  to 
her—" 

Captain  Price,  dumfounded,  forgot 
his  fear  and  burst  out  :  "  You're  a  pack 
of  fools,  the  whole  caboodle!  I  swear 

-" 


" 


"Oh,  don't  blaspheme!"  said  Gussie, 
faintly,  and  staggered  a  little,  so  that 
all  the  Captain's  terror  returned.  // 
she  fainted! 

"Hi,  there,  Cyrus!  Come  aft,  will 
you?  Gussie's  getting  white  around 
the  gills—  Cyrus!" 

Cyrus  came,  running,  and  between 
them  they  got  the  swooning  Gussie  to 
her  room.  Afterwards,  when  Cyrus 
tiptoed  down-stairs,  he  found  the  Cap- 


An  tttrnrr 


tain  at  the  cabin  door.     The  old  man 
beckoned  mysteriously. 

"Cy,  my  boy,  come  in  here" — he 
hunted  about  in  his  pocket  for  the 
key  of  the  cupboard — "Cyrus,  I'll  tell 
you  what  happened ;  that  female  across 
the  street  came  in,  and  told  poor  Gus- 
sie  some  cock-and-bull  story  about  her 
mother  and  me !"  The  Captain  chuck 
led,  and  picked  up  his  harmonicon. 
"It  scared  the  life  out  of  Gussie,"  he 
said ;  then,  with  sudden  angry  gravity, 
— "these  people  that  poke  their  noses 
into  other's  people's  business  ought  to 
be  thrashed.  Well,  I'm  going  over  to 
see  Mrs.  North."  And  off  he  stumped, 
leaving  Cyrus  staring  after  him,  open- 
mouthed. 

If  Mary  North  had  been  at  home, 
she  would  have  met  him  with  all  the 
agonized  courage  of  shyness  and  a 

63 


good  conscience.  But  she  had  fled 
out  of  the  house,  and  down  along  the 
River  Road,  to  be  alone  and  regain 
her  self-control. 

The  Captain,  however,  was  not  seek 
ing  Miss  North.  He  opened  the  front 
door,  and  advancing  to  the  foot  of  the 
stairs,  called  up :  "Ahoy,  there!  Mrs. 
North!" 

Mrs.  North  came  trotting  out  to  an 
swer  the  summons.  "Why,  Alfred!" 
she  exclaimed,  looking  over  the  banis 
ters,  "  when  did  you  come  in  ?  I  didn't 
hear  the  bell  ring.  1 11  come  right  down. ' ' 

"It  didn't  ring;  I  walked  in,"  said 
the  Captain.  And  Mrs.  North  came 
down-stairs,  perhaps  a  little  stiffly, 
but  as  pretty  an  old  lady  as  you  ever 
saw.  Her  white  curls  lay  against 
faintly  pink  cheeks,  and  her  lace  cap 
had  a  pink  bow  on  it.  But  she  looked 
anxious  and  uncomfortable. 
64 


W     , 


An 

("Oh,"  she  was  saying  to  herself,  "I 
do  hope  Mary's  out!)— Well,  Alfred ?" 
she  said;  but  her  voice  was  fright 
ened. 

The  Captain  stumped  along  in  front 
of  her  into  the  parlor,  and  motioned 
her  to  a  seat.  "Mrs.  North,"  he  said, 
his  face  red,  his  eye  hard,  "some  jack- 
donkeys  have  been  poking  their  noses 
(of  course  they're  females)  into  our 
affairs;  and — " 

"Oh,  Alfred,  isn't  it  horrid  in 
them?"  said  the  old  lady. 

"Darn  'em!"  said  the  Captain. 

"It  makes  me  mad!"  cried  Mrs. 
North;  then  her  spirit  wavered. 
"Mary  is  so  foolish;  she  says  she'll — 
she'll  take  me  away  from  Old  Chester. 
I  laughed  at  first,  it  was  so  foolish. 
But  when  she  said  that — oh  dear!" 

"Well,  but,  my  dear  madam,  say 
you  won't  go.     Ain't  you  skipper?" 
65 


Art  3Etu0r* 

"No,  I'm  not,"  she  said,  dolefully. 
"Mary  brought  me  here,  and  she'll 
take  me  away,  if  she  thinks  it  best. 
Best  for  me,  you  know.  Mary  is  a 
good  daughter,  Alfred.  I  don't  want 
you  to  think  she  isn't.  But  she's  fool 
ish.  Unmarried  women  are  apt  to  be 
foolish." 

The  Captain  thought  of  Gussie,  and 
sighed.  "Well,"  he  said,  with  the 
simple  candor  of  the  sea,  "I  guess 
there  ain't  much  difference  in  'em, 
married  or  unmarried." 

"It's  the  interference  makes  me 
mad,"  Mrs.  North  declared,  hotly. 

"Damn  the  whole  crew!"  said  the 
Captain ;  and  the  old  lady  laughed  de 
lightedly. 

"Thank  you,  Alfred!" 

"My  daughter-in-law  is  crying  her 
eyes  out,"  the  Captain  sighed. 

"Tck!"  said  Mrs.  North;  "Alfred, 
66 


JU. 


«< 


An  lEnrnre 

you  have  no  sense.     Let  her  cry.     It's 
good  for  her!" 

"Oh  no,"  said  the  Captain,  shocked. 

"You're  a  perfect  slave  to  her," 
cried  Mrs.  North. 

"No  more  than  you  are  to  your 
daughter,"  Captain  Price  defended 
himself;  and  Mrs.  North  sighed. 

"  We  are  just  real  foolish,  Alfred,  to 
listen  to  'em.  As  if  we  didn't  know 
what  was  good  for  us." 

"People  have  interfered  with  us  a 
good  deal,  first  and  last,"  the  Captain 
said,  grimly. 

The  faint  color  in  Mrs.  North's 
cheeks  suddenly  deepened.  "So  they 
have,"  she  said. 

The  Captain  shook  his  head  in  a 
discouraged  way ;  he  took  his  pipe  out 
of  his  pocket  and  looked  at  it  absent- 
mindedly.  "I  suppose  I  can  stay  at 
home,  and  let  'em  get  over  it?" 
67 


•^ 


Stay  at  home?  Why,  you'd  far 
better—" 

"What?"  said  the  Captain. 

"Come  oftener!"  cried  the  old  lady. 
"Let  'em  get  over  it  by  getting  used 
to  it." 

Captain  Price  looked  doubtful.  ' '  But 
how  about  your  daughter?" 

Mrs.  North  quailed.  "I  forgot 
Mary,"  she  admitted. 

"I  don't  bother  you,  coming  to  see 
you,  do  I?"  the  Captain  said,  anx 
iously. 

"Why,  Alfred,  I  love  to  see  you.  If 
our  children  would  just  let  us  alone!" 

"First  it  was  our  parents,"  said 
Captain  Price.  He  frowned  heavily. 
"According  to  other  people,  first  we 
were  too  young  to  have  sense;  and 
now  we're  too  old."  He  took  out  his 
worn  old  pouch,  plugged  some  shag 
into  his  pipe,  and  struck  a  match 
68 


I/1, 


*.?** 


An  Cttrar* 


under  the  mantel-piece.     He  sighed, 
with  deep  discouragement. 

Mrs.  North  sighed  too.  Neither  of 
them  spoke  for  a  moment;  then  the 
little  old  lady  drew  a  quick  breath  and 
flashed  a  look  at  him ;  opened  her  lips ; 
closed  them  with  a  snap ;  then  regard 
ed  the  toe  of  her  slipper  fixedly.  The 
color  flooded  up  to  her  soft  white  hair. 

The  Captain,  staring  hopelessly,  sud 
denly  blinked ;  then  his  honest  red  face 
slowly  broadened  into  beaming  as 
tonishment  and  satisfaction.  "Mrs. 
North—1' 

"  Captain  Price!"  she  parried,  breath 
lessly. 

"  So  long  as  our  affectionate  children 
have  suggested  it!" 

"  Suggested— what  ?" 

"  Let's  give  'em  something  to  cry 
about!" 

"Alfred!" 

69 


Att 

"Look  here:  we  are  two  old  fools; 
so  they  say,  anyway.  Let's  live  up  to 
their  opinion.  I'll  get  a  house  for 
Cyrus  and  Gussie — and  your  girl  can 
live  with  'em,  if  she  wants  to!"  The 
Captain's  bitterness  showed  then. 

"She  could  live  here,"  murmured 
Mrs.  North. 

"What  do  you  say?" 

The  little  old  lady  laughed  excitedly, 
and  shook  her  head ;  the  tears  stood  in 
her  eyes. 

"Do  you  want  to  leave  Old  Ches 
ter?"  the  Captain  demanded. 

"You  know  I  don't,"  she  said,  sigh 
ing. 

"She'd  take  you  away  to-morrow," 
he  threatened,  "if  she  knew  I  had — I 
had—" 

" She  sha 'n't  know  it." 

"Well,  then,  we've  got  to  get  spliced 
to-morrow." 

70 


An  lEnrare 

"Oh,  Alfred,  no!  I  don't  believe 
Dr.  Lavendar  would — " 

"I'll  have  no  dealings  with  Laven 
dar,"  the  Captain  said,  with  sudden 
stiffness;  "he's  like  all  the  rest  of  'em. 
I'll  get  a  license  in  Upper  Chester,  and 
we'll  go  to  some  parson  there." 

Mrs.  North's  eyes  snapped.  "Oh, 
no,  no!"  she  protested;  but  in  another 
minute  they  were  shaking  hands  on  it. 

"Cyrus  and  Gussie  can  go  and  live 
by  themselves,"  said  the  Captain,  joy 
ously,  "and  I'll  get  that  hold  cleaned 
out;  she's  kept  the  ports  shut  ever 
since  she  married  Cyrus." 

"And  I'll  make  a  cake!  And  I'll 
take  care  of  your  clothes;  you  really 
are  dreadfully  shabby";  she  turned 
him  round  to  the  light,  and  brushed  off 
some  ashes.  The  Captain  beamed. 
"Poor  Alfred!  and  there's  a  button 
gone!  that  daughter-in-law  of  yours 


U 

'*> 


An 


can't  sew  any  more  than  a  cat  (and 
she  is  a  cat!).  But  I  love  to  mend. 
Mary  has  saved  me  all  that.  She's 
such  a  good  daughter  —  poor  Mary. 
But  she's  unmarried,  poor  child." 

However,  it  was  not  to-morrow.  It 
was  two  or  three  days  later  that  Dr. 
Lavendar  and  Danny,  jogging  along 
behind  Goliath  under  the  buttonwoods 
on  the  road  to  Upper  Chester,  were 
somewhat  inconvenienced  by  the  dust 
of  a  buggy  that  crawled  up  and  down 
the  hills  just  a  little  ahead.  The  hood 
of  this  buggy  was  up,  upon  which  fact 
— it  being  a  May  morning  of  rollick 
ing  wind  and  sunshine — Dr.  Lavendar 
speculated  to  his  companion :  "Daniel, 
the  man  in  that  vehicle  is  either  blind 
and  deaf,  or  else  he  has  something  on 
his  conscience;  in  either  case  he  won't 
mind  our  dust,  so  we'll  cut  in  ahead 
72 


./.*•*"*/ 

•**  • 


An   Enrnrr 

at  the  watering  -  trough.     G'on,  Go 
liath!" 

But  Goliath  had  views  of  his  own 
about  the  watering- trough,  and  instead 
of  passing  the  hooded  buggy,  which 
had  stopped  there,  he  insisted  upon 
drawing  up  beside  it.  "Now,  look 
here,"  Dr.  Lavendar  remonstrated, 
"you  know  you're  not  thirsty."  But 
Goliath  plunged  his  nose  down  into 
the  cool  depths  of  the  great  iron  cal 
dron,  into  which,  from  a  hollow  log, 
ran  a  musical  drip  of  water.  Dr. 
Lavendar  and  Danny,  awaiting  his 
pleasure,  could  hear  a  murmur  of 
voices  from  the  depths  of  the  eccentric 
vehicle  which  put  up  a  hood  on  such 
a  day ;  when  suddenly  Dr.  Lavendar's 
eye  fell  on  the  hind  legs  of  the  other 
horse.  "That's  Cipher's  trotter,"  he 
said  to  himself,  and  leaning  out,  cried : 
"Hi!  Cy ?"  At  which  the  other  horse 
73 


was  drawn  in  with  a  jerk,  and  Captain 

I  Price's  agitated  face  peered  out  from 

under  the  hood. 

"Where!  Where's  Cyrus?"  Then 
he  caught  sight  of  Dr.  Lavendar. 
"'The  devil  and  Tom  Walker'!"  said 
the  Captain,  with  a  groan.  The  buggy 
backed  erratically. 

"Look  out!"  said  Dr.  Lavendar— 
but  the  wheels  locked. 

Of  course  there  was  nothing  for  Dr. 
Lavendar  to  do  but  get  out  and  take 
Goliath  by  the  head,  grumbling,  as  he 
did  so,  that  Cyrus  "  shouldn't  own  such 
a  spirited  beast." 

"  I  am  somewhat  hurried,"  said  Cap 
tain  Price,  stiffly. 

The  old  minister  looked  at  him  over 
his  spectacles;  then  he  glanced  at  the 
small,  embarrassed  figure  shrinking 
into  the  depths  of  the  buggy. 

("Hullo,  hullo,  hullo!"  he  said,  soft- 
74 


*>.    t 


An 

ly.  "Well,  Gussie's  done  it.)  You'd 
better  back  a  little,  Captain,"  he  ad 
vised. 

"I  can  manage,"  said  the  Captain. 

"  I  didn't  say  '  go  back,' "  Dr.  Laven- 
dar  said,  mildly. 

"  Oh !"  murmured  a  small  voice  from 
within  the  buggy. 

"I  expect  you  need  me,  don't  you, 
Alfred?"  said  Dr.  Lavendar. 

"  What  ?"  said  the  Captain,  frowning. 

"Captain,"  said  Dr.  Lavendar,  sim 
ply,  "if  I  can  be  of  any  service  to 
you  and  Mrs.  North,  I  shall  be  glad." 

Captain  Price  looked  at  him.  "  Now, 
look  here,  Lavendar,  we're  going  to  do 
it  this  time,  if  all  the  parsons  in — well, 
in  the  church,  try  to  stop  us!" 

"I'm  not  going  to  try  to  stop  you." 

"  But  Gussie  said  you  said — " 

"  Alfred,  at  your  time  of  life,  are  you 
beginning  to  quote  Gussie?" 
75 


"  But  she  said  you  said  it  would  be — " 

"  Captain  Price,  I  do  not  express  my 
opinion  of  your  conduct  to  your  daugh 
ter-in-law.  You  ought  to  have  sense 
enough  to  know  that." 

"  Well,  why  did  you  talk  to  her  about 
it?" 

"I  didn't  talk  to  her  about  it. 
But,"  said  Dr.  Lavendar,  thrusting 
out  his  lower  lip,  "  I  should  like  to." 

"  We  were  going  to  hunt  up  a  parson 
in  Upper  Chester,"  said  the  Captain, 
sheepishly. 

Dr.  Lavendar  looked  about,  up  and 
down  the  silent,  shady  road,  then 
through  the  bordering  elder -berries 
into  an  orchard.  "If  you  have  your 
license,"  he  said,  "I  have  my  prayer- 
book.  Let's  go  into  the  orchard. 
There  are  two  men  working  there  we 
can  get  for  witnesses  —  Danny  isn't 
quite  enough,  I  suppose." 


76 


THERE    WAS    A    LITTLE    SILENCE,    AND    THEN    DR.    LAVENDER    BEGAN 


•• 


An  Ettrnr* 

** f? 

The  Captain  turned  to  Mrs.  North. 
"What  do  you  say,  ma'am?"  he  said. 
She  nodded,  and  gathered  up  her 
skirts  to  get  out  of  the  buggy.  The 
two  old  men  led  their  horses  to  the 
side  of  the  road  and  hitched  them  to 
the  rail  fence ;  then  the  Captain  helped 
Mrs.  North  through  the  elder-bushes, 
and  shouted  out  to  the  men  ploughing 
at  the  other  side  of  the  orchard.  They 
came — big,  kindly  young  fellows,  and 
stood  gaping  at  the  three  old  people 
standing  under  the  apple-tree  in  the 
sunshine.  Dr.  Lavendar  explained 
that  they  were  to  be  witnesses,  and 
the  boys  took  off  their  hats. 

There  was  a  little  silence,  and  then, 
in  the  white  shadows  and  perfume  of 
the  orchard,  with  its  sunshine,  and 
drift  of  petals  falling  in  the  gay  wind, 
Dr.  Lavendar  began.  .  .  .  When  he 
came  to  "Let  no  man  put  asunder — " 
77 


Att  ?Ettr0« 

Captain  Price  growled  in  his  grizzled 
red  beard,  "  Nor  woman,  either!"  But 
only  Mrs.  North  smiled. 

When  it  was  over,  Captain  Price 
drew  a  deep  breath  of  relief.  "Well, 
this  time  we  made  a  sure  thing  of  it, 
Mrs.  North!" 

"Mrs.  North  r  said  Dr.  Lavendar; 
and  then  he  did  chuckle. 

"Oh—"  said  Captain  Price,  and 
roared  at  the  joke. 

"You'll have  to  call  me  Letty,"  said 
the  pretty  old  lady,  smiling  and  blush 
ing. 

"Oh,"  said  the  Captain;  then  he 
hesitated.  "Well,  now,  if  you  don't 
mind,  I  —  I  guess  I  won't  call  you 
Letty.  I'll  call  you  Letitia." 

"Call  me  anything  you  want  to," 
said  Mrs.  Price,  gayly. 

Then  they  all  shook  hands  with  one 
another  and  with  the  witnesses,  who 

78 


Art 

found  something  left  in  their  palms 
that  gave  them  great  satisfaction,  and 
went  back  to  climb  into  their  respective 
buggies. 

"We  have  shore  leave,"  the  Captain 
explained ;  "  we  won't  go  back  to  Old 
Chester  for  a  few  days.  You  may  tell 
'em,  Lavendar." 

"Oh,  may  I?"  said  Dr.  Lavendar, 
blankly.  "Well,  good-bye,  and  good 
luck!" 

He  watched  the  other  buggy  tug  on 
ahead,  and  then  he  leaned  down  to 
catch  Danny  by  the  scruff  of  the  neck. 

"Well,  Daniel,"  he  said,  "'if  at  first 
you  don't  succeed? — " 

And   Danny   was   pulled   into   the 


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